


The Sunset of Romanticism

by catherineisa



Series: Prompt Fills [7]
Category: The Blacklist (US TV)
Genre: F/M, canon divergent episode fic, episode fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:15:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25031551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catherineisa/pseuds/catherineisa
Summary: The most desperate challenge.Aram doesn’t have much experience with undercover work but he’s sure he doesn’t have great luck with it.
Relationships: Aram Mojtabai/Samar Navabi
Series: Prompt Fills [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1762387
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	The Sunset of Romanticism

**Author's Note:**

  * For [az2018](https://archiveofourown.org/users/az2018/gifts).



Waiting for debriefs is daunting to him, he could make a sex joke there but he's not really that kind of person. He sits tapping his foot on the ground, waiting for the rest of the team to come back from their individual housekeeping. He sees Ressler and Elizabeth talking about something in their office through the window. He sees Cooper on the phone in his office, and finally he looks over to Samar to see her working on paperwork across from him. He taps his foot lightly against the stretcher on the chair, he feels his foot slip off and hit the ground with more force than he intends, he winces, not out of pain but the noise is enough to make Samar look up from her paper stack questioningly.

“Trouble?” He's not quite sure if she's being sarcastic. “Sorry.” He whispers the words as if he's going to bother someone near, when in actuality there aren't very many people in the blacksite to begin with. Samar looks around before leaning in.

“You don't have to whisper.” She's whispering herself. She chuckles lightly before returning to her papers, still glancing at Aram at intervals.

“Do you know what the meeting is going to be about?” He's still whispering.

“No Aram, I don't.” She's still smiling but her eyes tell him she feels slightly bad for him.

Cooper had told them that Aram needed to be there, he might have even phrased it as imperative, all that did was make him nervous. Cooper finally makes his way down the stairs, he beckons to Liz and Ressler who quickly make their way onto the open floor, Samar marks a place in her file and rubs her temples lightly, wincing. He places his hand in the middle of their tables for a moment before Samar places her own hand over his. Simply it says to both of them that they are there for each other, broadly it means that Aram will be there for her, no matter what. Osterman Umbrella had been hard on both of them but Mr. Reddington help to track down the assassins. His more unorthodox methods had scared Aram at first but when it came to Samar he doesn't care, whatever it takes to keep her safe. Her therapy had been going well and they were doing well.

Aram catches Ressler's glance out of the corner of his eye and slowly pulls his hand away. Ressler purses his lips and puts his hands up in a somewhat defensive manner and backs up slightly. “Am I interrupting something.” Samar doesn't look him in the eyes, she's still looking to Aram. Her tone is flat, and Aram wonders if the romantic gesture was welcome at work. He puts his hands in his lap and pulls his feet back on the stretcher. He locks the groove of his shoe on it as Cooper walks up.

“Reddington fished us a lead on Rostova.” The sentence is enough to make Elizabeth blanch. Ressler pipes up before she can say anything. “You have a direct line to Reddington?” He arches his eyebrow.

“I guess I do now.” Cooper doesn't seem too affected by the maybe accusation. Aram also knows though that Reddington's a sore spot for Ressler, having had him evade his capture for nearly seven years. Aram doesn't really blame him though.

Cooper doesn't dwell on any of the postulations of the statement. He turns toward Samar and Aram, who are still sitting at their desks. “Reddington gave me several names for the new Blacklister, The name of a group, Les Fleurs Du Mal.” Aram breathes inwardly. “The Flowers Of Evil.” They all look at him oddly. “I didn't have a lot of friends in high school.”

He's especially confused by Ressler's strange look though. “Ressler, didn't Mr. Reddington give you that Baudelaire book at Penn Station?” Ressler looks away, Aram knows Ressler still has the book but Penn Station was always a sore subject. Aram regrets mentioning the incident.

“Yeah. He did. He was just taunting me.” Aram isn't as sure. It seems like nothing Mr. Reddington does is without purpose. He drops it and looks to Samar. She doesn't seem to see his gaze.

Cooper continues his briefing. “Aram. I'd like you and Navabi to find out what you can from a man who might've had contact with Fleurs Du Mal.”

It takes Aram and Samar nearly half an hour to find the house of the woman Cooper mentioned, Charles Radcliffe, It's a considerably nicer apartment than Aram's and they can't help but not be surprised. Secret society? Rich people? Not surprised.

He knocks on the door and is surprised when it's opened almost immediately.

“Elodie Radcliffe?” Aram speaks up when a red headed woman opens the door.

“Agents Navabi and Mojtabai, FBI.” Samar shows her badge and Aram fumbles with his, nearly dropping it.

“I knew you'd come sooner or later.” The woman's expression is odd. Somewhere between relief and resignation.

“You did?” Aram looks startled and immediately looks to Samar who seems unaffected by the sudden declaration.

“Les Fleurs du Mal. That's why you're here, isn't it?” She steps back from the door, leaving it open and gesturing for them to come in and shut it.

“Uh how could you know that?” Aram walks in and Samar closes the door, she's obviously cautious and keeps Aram close.

“I thought you'd given up.”

“On what?” Aram is interviewing but Samar is looking around, Radcliffe doesn't seem to notice though, she's focusing fully on Aram.

“On my husband, Charles.” Aram wastes no time on directing the flow of conversation. “Well, if he's here, we'd like to have a word with him, as well. We have a lot of questions for the both of you.”

“Charles can't help you. Because those people in Les Fleurs du Mal all but killed him.”

She sits in one of the chairs across from them, next to a man in a wheelchair, seemingly impaired. She clasps her hand over her husbands. His eyes move to focus on her.

This doesn't take Samar's edge off, all she'd seen from Reddington makes her question everything these days. Samar keeps her hand at her waist even as she sits in the chair pointed out by Radcliffe.  
  


“An arterial gas embolism. That's the lie they told me to hide whatever they really did to him.” She looks over to her husband sadly, rubbing circles into the top of his hand.

“Did you go to the police?” Samar is asking the questions this time, Aram just sits there, waiting for the inevitable answer to the question. “And say what? I don't know what happened. And even if I did, these are powerful people with the resources to protect themselves.” The woman's eyes are wide and her hand is no longer covering her husbands. Her stance is defensive and Samar inches closer to Aram, as if the woman would lunge at him. She continues, hoping to quietly diffuse the situation. “So, how did you find these people?” Radcliffe's facial features soften.

“Charles found them. It was a gift for our anniversary. Our marriage wasn't perfect. We were bored, drifting apart. Charles thought this might be exciting.”

Aram is shocked by the woman's words. He can't help but stutter out “T-To watch people die?” Once again the woman is defensive, her tone is deliberate, withdrawn. “Sharing an experience, something so rare and raw and extraordinary that it can't be forgotten that it can only bring you closer. They called it "The Defiance. "”

“Sounds terrifying.” Aram's hands are clasped against his knees as he leans forward a fraction of an inch. He's curious. “Which is why I didn't go.” She reaches out to touch her husbands hand again, falling just short of actually doing it. “Do you know how to make contact?” Aram's statement seems out of the blue to Elodie but Samar knows it's been keyed up from the start.

“Y-You want me to talk to them?” “Yes. Help us expose them. And find out what happened to your husband.” She thinks for a moment before looking to Aram again, resolute. “Mm, Charles had an e-mail address for the man in charge, Thelonious Prackett. That's all I know.”

  
  
He debates the decision he'd made in his mind. He hadn't talked it over with Samar. He was thinking about asking Cooper to let him go undercover. He climbs the stairs, holding himself close to the guardrail. He's made up his mind. He raps on the door twice with his knuckles. “Sir.”

Cooper doesn't look up at first and Aram clears his throat awkwardly.

“Sir, there is nothing on Thelonious Prackett. It's It's got to be an alias. But whoever he is, he agreed to let Mrs. Radcliffe - recommend a new member.”

“Did you tell Ressler?” Aram knew he'd put Ressler up for the job, he takes a step back, swallowing his nerves.

“Prackett agreed on one condition that if the new member gets invited to an event, Radcliffe has to go with.”

Cooper looks back to whatever papers he has on his desk.

“That'll be all right as long as Ressler is with her the whole time.” He inhales heavily. He figures he needs to just throw himself out. Metaphorically of course.

“Yeah, um, about that. If, um If we're doing this, I'd like to go with her.” He figures Cooper might not fully get what he's saying and he clarifies. “Instead of Ressler”

Cooper takes off his glasses, looking directly at Aram now. “Is that so?” Cooper is curiously amused. He'd never thought Aram would go out on his own, considering every time he'd had to he'd been clearly uncomfortable. “Sir. I just think that I need to get used to being in the field.” Aram is speaking fast, trying to get his point across before Cooper can interrupt him to say no. He doesn't know that Cooper isn't inclined to though.

“Sir. I need more experience in the field, and I feel like this would be a good opportunity to do that.” Aram looks to him expectantly, waiting for the answer. “Is this about Samar? What happened to her?” He deflates a bit at that, falling into one of the chairs behind him. “Is it that obvious? I just” He falters looking around before focusing on Cooper again. He gathers his words before continuing. “I just think sometimes, if I had been faster. If I'd've done something more. Gone with her the first time, maybe she wouldn't have been taken. She wouldn't have been in that lake.” Aram is wracked by a full body tremor.

“What happened to agent Navabi was nobodies fault except Devlin's. Certainly not yours, you did good work out there. If you're really sure about the field work. Go.” Aram nods thankfully.

  
Aram feels a bit out of place in the nice suit, it's miles away from what he'd normally wear and the pants restrict his range of motion. It's mostly white and his first thought is that he's going to spill something on it. The only article that isn't completely white is the jacket, it's grey with plaid vain accents shaped as squares. It's square patterned and exactly his size and he wonders where Ressler got it. He asks him and Ressler laughs haughtily. “Where do you think they came from? Reddington.” Aram is confused as to how Mr. Reddington knows his size but obviously he has his ways. He thinks briefly that if Mr. Reddington wore suits like this things would certainly be more interesting. Although he's got his own style figured out, to a T.

Ressler tells him not to worry about anything and briefs him on ways to avoid talk and quick combat moves. Aram is incredibly grateful for it.

“I wouldn't worry too much about what's in the suitcase. Except for what you're wearing tonight, Reddington was clear that I should tell you which one it is. So you don't wear quote “the packed pajamas” I don't think you could miss it though.” Ressler unzips the bag carefully, so as not to catch any of the clothes on the zipper. The suit is folded together nicely and Aram can only assume Mr. Reddington or Dembe packed it themselves. Ressler informs him there's a matching bowtie in a clasp in the compartment of the suitcase.

“Reddington says he doesn't care if you decide to keep the clothes. He says just don't destroy them... or machine wash them. We don't know how long you'll have to be there but we're assuming one to three days. Be careful.”

The meeting with Prackett is tense. Aram figures he should try his best to act like a rich person, so he crosses his leg with a wide breadth, not caring how much space he takes up. He tries to keep it from his face that it's uncomfortable for him, not physically but it's just not something he'd do.

He talks about horses and love. He tries to seem convincing but Prackett's is nonplussed. He imagines it's Samar sitting next to him, he speaks truth to how he felt when he met her, with the guise of horses and money.

“We met at Ascot. I had a horse racing in the Dubai Shergar Cup.”

And how did he do?” Prackett also sits with his legs crossed but he's drawn in. He's cautious.

“Fractured his left-front pastern. Had to be put down. Cost me $300,000 in stud fees.

“Per stud?” He gestures with his hands.

“40 studs a year, that's $12 million per year.” Aram hopes that he's convincing Prackett. He regulates his breathing, continuing.

“That must have been a dark day.” He's still probing.

“Until I saw Elodie. Things brightened considerably after that.” He laughs, reaching over for Elodie's hand. She smiles primly, holding it lightly. Prackett turns his attention to her now and Aram can't help but be relieved.

“How is Charles? The man I married is alive, but my husband is gone.” Her hand drifts from his as she clasps her hands in her lap. Her tone is gloomy, but she doesn't let it take over.

“And our role in that tragedy?” He's still probing.

“I don't hold you responsible, if that's what you're asking. He wanted the risk. We both did.”

“Well, I know you did. I'm surprised you still do.” His tone is amused. He chuckles.

“I didn't. For a long time, I thought I never would again. Then I met Shameel.” She looks to him.

“I was a guest in one of the royal boxes, and she was three rows below, and still the peacock feathers in her hat blocked my view.” He laughs, tilting his head back slightly.  
“Ah.” He sighs, seemingly exasperated. “Your interest is unusual.” Aram feels Elodie tense up beside him and he worries. Nevertheless he continues calmly. “I don't see why. I can buy anything I want. So, naturally what I want is something I cannot buy.” Aram wonders briefly if the sentence even makes sense. He hopes the man can't see his bluffs. The man stands, pressing his gloves farther onto his fingers. He inhales, turning away from them.

“It's unusual because it coincides with an upcoming event.” He turns back to them.

“Why is that unusual?”

“Because we haven't issued invitations yet. Which makes your interest an usual coincidence or worse not a coincidence at all.”

Aram puts his arm onto the back of the couch again. He feels confident he can sway the man. “I understand your caution and why you need to vet your guests as closely as you do. I would expect nothing less. But we've told you our story, we've exchanged wiring instructions, and I'm one text away from depositing $1 million into your account.” Aram's eyes are closed slightly, he looks bored. He checks his watch.

“The Defiance is an experience money can't buy.” Prackett's tone is indignant. Aram feels he's got him, but maybe not for the reasons he'd like. He hopes Reddington is willing to spare a million.

“Of course not, which is why I'm all the more happy to pay for it. So, I need to know. Are we in? or are we out?” He scrapes his tongue over the back of his teeth, waiting for the man to confirm or deny. He hopes for his sake that it's a confirm.

“Welcome to Les Fleurs du Mal.” Prackett hands him an envelope sealed with a skull embossed in black wax.

~~  
~~ The meeting to brief Elodie and in turn Aram is much more laid back. He feels like he can breath again. Of course though he's most relieved to see Samar's face. She's sitting across the table from him and he can't help but press the toe of his shoe against hers, just to let her know he's there. She looks up at him, smiling tightly. It's not a happy smile. He wonders briefly if he's done something wrong. He withdraws from her and she drops all semblances of a smile.

“I'm confused.” Elodie is looking to him to explain. He stutters for a moment before looking away from Samar. He frowns but shakes it off. She continues, she's visibly shaken. “We have no idea where we're going, who will be there, or how to get out. I mean, we don't even know how to get to this event.”

“Prackett said he'd send instructions.” Ressler pipes in. He seems exhausted.

“Which he hasn't.” She's quick but Aram is just as quick, he's turned towards him now. “He will. We sold our story well, but if you're uncomfortable.” She cuts him off. “I am. Because I [SIGHS] Look, I don't quite understand the plan. Can we go over it again?” Her features soften. Samar leans back in her chair and he catches it out of the corner of his eye. He wants to find out what is bothering her but he can't, not right now at least.

“The location of the event is a closely guarded secret.” Cooper speaks up for the first time.

“Which means you and Aram will be on your own.”

“When Prackett makes contact, you'll follow his instructions.” Ressler speaks again and Aram is wondering if he's been sleeping okay.

“Well, if you don't know where we're going, and you can't follow us, how do you plan to find our location?”

“With an ELT beacon. We'll smuggle the device in disassembled so we can get it past security.

“Disassembled. You're going to wear the device into the building in pieces.” Liz hauls a heavy metal briefcase onto the table and sets out trays of various clothing items and accessories.

“Once inside, Aram will assemble the device, activate the signal, and it'll give our team your location.”

“And once you get the signal?” She still seems a bit skeptical. “We'll come and get you.”

“Okay. I get it. We literally have no idea where we're going.”

“No. We don't. It'll be okay. I promise.”

He sees Samar leave the table. He tries to leave after her but Radcliffe grasps his arm, nearly pulling him back down.

He points her to Cooper and tells her that he can answer any questions.

He finds Samar standing under the stairs under the balcony. Her arms are crossed and she's turned away from him. He can't see her face. He touches her shoulder lightly. She turns but only slightly.

“Are you okay? You seem... different from this morning. Did I do something?” He leans on the wall next to her. She still hasn't turned towards him.

“No. I just...” She turns towards him, putting her hands just under the lapel, on his chest. “You look nice.”

Aram can tell that that's not what she was going to say originally. He puts his hands over hers, enveloping them. He takes a step forward, pulling her closer. “What's bothering you?” He puts his chin on the top of her head, putting his arms around her, hugging her closer. It seems as soon as she might be about to tell him though Cooper hangs around the corner and beckons toward Aram.

“Mrs. Radcliffe received the text with the directions. You're up.”

~~++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++~~

“For The Defiance.” Someone at the door grasps at them before they can slip away. They slide white bracelets onto their wrists. Clasping them, seemingly locking them to prevent from removal.

“Enjoy your stay.” There's no further check in processes and Aram can't help but breathe a sigh of relief, although he knows he shouldn't let himself.

“Thank you.”

~~======================~~

“Cheers. Cheers.” Thelonious Prackett takes a glass of champagne, raising it high and shouting jovially.

“Hmm. Why do we need these again?” She pulls on the bracelet. He looks around, assessing threats.

“I have no idea.” He tries to force out a laugh but it comes out choked, she looks at him concerned but he doesn't seem to notice. Nobody seems to be looking their way and he bends down, untying his shoe.

“I need to tie my shoe.” She mutters lightly. “Hand me the antenna.” She pulls the antenna out of her necklace carefully, handing it to Aram. Aram stands up as he see's a very nice pair of shoes prance up to them. He puts his hands in his pocket with the device. “ And what are you two up to?” The timber of his voice is light, seemingly amused.

“What? Oh.” They both laugh. “We were, uh We were just, uh, talking about how delicious those little shrimp tartlets are.”

“Oh, he's quite a foodie.” “I am a foodie.” He nods, tilting his head to the side. “Mm-hmm. I am I'm such a foodie.” He repeats it several times and the man just smiles at him, eyes dark. The man turns from them, a slight wave with gloved hands.

“Well, eat all you like. Drink all you like. Tonight is an event that none of us will soon forget. Have fun, my friends. And good luck.”

"Good luck?” Elodie whispers to him. She holds onto his shoulder. “Why would he say, "Good luck?”

“I have no idea - and I don't want to find out.” He sticks the device under the table, waiting to hear it whir quietly before moving on “Let's keep moving, shall we?”

It's not very long before Prackett takes a glass clinking it with a metal stirrer.

“May I have your attention, please?” The room breaks out in loud scattered cheers. “The Defiance is here. The spectacle we are about to witness only has meaning because each of us is invested. The pledge we made is what binds us. It's what lets us feel like we're alive, even if only for one night.”

Aram inhales sharply.

“Each of us has agreed to embrace this challenge, and yet only one of us will face it. For that unlucky member, may it be some small consolation to remember we ask no risk of you that we have not taken ourselves. With that, The Defiance begins in one hour.”

“Good luck to us all.” There's a bingo ball roller on a table and Aram and Elodie quickly realize. “Oh, my God. The Player. They choose one from the guests.”

“I don't know what's taking so long. It's online and transmitting.”

“So, why aren't they here? Are we maybe out of range?” Her face is scrunched with fear.

“No, it doesn't matter where we are. It's GPS activated.” Aram tries to figure it out quickly in his head.

“Okay, so, where are they, then?”

“I don't know. But the only thing that could possibly interfere would be a sun-flare or” His eye widen. “A jammer.” Her fear is escalated with the two words.

“So, the FBI has no idea we're here.” Aram winces. “I don't think so.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, it's time. Are you ready to meet the Player?” The balls on the table swirl and one falls out. A moment later Elodie's bracelet turns red and starts beeping. She starts shrieking and they have to drag her away. He tries to comfort her but he has no idea how.

“Oh, my God.” “Okay. Okay. Okay.” “Oh, my God!” “Okay, Elodie, we're gonna figure this out. We're gonna figure this out. It's gonna be fine. - It's gonna be fine.”

She's screaming at the guards, hoping to access some of their humanity. Hoping they'll let her go.

He'd somehow snuck away and deactivated the jammer, even if only for a second he has faith in his team.

He walks back in, greeted by the horrible sight of Elodie being ushered into a glass cage.

“Ladies and gentlemen, after our brief interruption it's now time. Welcome to The Defiance.”

Smattering applause over the room and he wonders how many of these people would be inclined to murder someone.

“Tonight, our Player faces a most desperate challenge. Using only the tools left inside the chamber, our Player must find a way to save her life by unlocking the device and climbing free from her tomb. But this device, this Defiance offers an additional challenge, one involving” He imitates a ticking clock, amused. “Time. Our Player not only has to get out, she has to do so before she suffocates.”

Elodie screams and Aram winces.

“Give us a show we won't forget! And good luck.” He raises his arms midway into the air.

“Stop it! I mean, stop it! Please, don't do this! I can't get this open! I can't! I don't know how to do this!” She screams loudly and Aram lurches forward slightly, catching the attention of Thelonious Prackett.

She's crying, smacking the glass with the palms of her hands. The water is rising quickly and Aram feels nauseous as he remembers Samar drowning in the river and having to drag her back up onto the shore. “

“Please stop this! The police! The FBI they know. They know all about you. They're gonna arrest all of you.”

Prackett points to him and one of the bodyguards walks over. “Aram! Aram, please, make it stop! Please tell them! Please! Please tell them.” He balls his fists up tightly.

“Mr. Aubeelauck. I need you to come with me, please.” The man is shorter than he is but he's armed and hairs breadth to shooting him, the clasp on his holster is already unbuttoned.

“Make it stop!” He tries to stand his ground. Staying still. Hoping she'll get out all right. It doesn't seem like she's even trying anymore.

“What? No. Sir, I'm not asking.”

“Could you, uh could you just, uh, - uh, give me a minute?” He takes a champagne flute off of the platter taking it up to his lips.

“Sir, we're leaving now.” He's jarred by the crowds cheering. He thinks quickly.

“Mr. Prackett's gonna be very upset with you.”

“Upset with me for what?” He tosses the drink into the mans face disorienting him. Aram takes advantage of the man's unclasped holster and general confusion to palm it from him.

He shoots several of the guards as they run toward him. He empties the clip into the glass. It doesn't seem to crack it and in a ditch effort he takes the gun and throws it sharply into the glass shattering it and flooding all of the water out onto the floor. He runs up to the tank and grasps her gasping body off of the floor by her waist. She trips up into him as he grabs another gun off of one of the fallen guards. He points it into the crowd and they retreat.

“FBI! Everybody on the ground. Nobody move.” He points the gun at them to keep them away until he turns the corner. He drops the gun when he gets away.

“Where are we going?” ”I don't know. Shh, shh.” They shove themselves into a doorway, listening to the footsteps fade as they run by. The chatter dies down.

“Where are your friends?” She's whispering, he can feel her breath of his face as she looks up at him. “I don't know.” He barely finishes the sentence when he feels her lips on his. She's on her toes reaching up to him. “What was that for?”

“Thank you.” He diverts from it quickly, not mentioning it. “We have to keep moving.” She seems put off by it, even with the impending danger. “Okay.” “We're almost there.” “Okay.” Aram gasps loudly.

They are lead back into the large room where Prackett is waiting with his arms crossed. He's visibly disappointed and a good bit angry.

“Welcome back.”

Aram is quick to pipe up. “Let her go.”

Prackett ignores Aram. “This really is a first.”

Aram continues, seemingly in vain. He's beginning to lose hope. “I'm an FBI agent, and you're gonna let her go.”

“You must know, if you're an FBI agent, that we can't let you go and expose our guests. So, you're going to come with me, you're going to tell my men exactly what the FBI know, and then we're gonna take you to the water's edge and drown you.”

Prackett smiles at them venomously and the crowd bursts out into applase.

Aram tries his best to convince the man, even with what seems like his close to last breaths. “No, wait.She had nothing to do with this. - I'm the one you want.” Prackett turns away, smiling at his assemblage “What's done is done.” The FBI bursts in. Even as they arrest Prackett, he seems more amused than anything.

“Some Defiance.”

* * *

He's sitting on Cooper's stairs, bow tie undone and hanging to the side. He's leaning against the step on the next step with his back which is actually quite painful. He feels Samar sit beside him and he scoots towards the railing even more. He can't bring himself to look at her. “Heard it went okay, all things considered.” She leans against him. “She kissed me.” It's short. He's still not looking at her. She draws him to face her by his chin.  
“I know.” He looks at her with unintentional puppy dog eyes. “Elodie told me. She didn't know you and I were together.” Samar chuckles warmly, entertained. Aram drops his tightly wound shoulders. He still feels guilty though. He couldn't have prevented it but he can't help it.

"I was jealous before and I pulled away from you, but then the more I thought about it, the more ridiculous it seemed. Couldn't help it though. Worried about the therapy and worried about everything else, so I couldn't help but worry about you." She smiles at him softly. It's a smile that reaches her eyes and it makes him happy to just see it again.

She pulls him in again but it's different this time. She pulls him in farther, cupping his face in her hands and pulling him close. She presses her lips firmly on his but even with the pressure he can feel how soft they are. He reaches up to her face and the kiss softens. She pulls away from him somewhat suddenly and he mourns the loss.

“Just had to remind you.”


End file.
